All for Naught
by Patricia de Lioncourt
Summary: Tara awakens in the year 12,090 AD to some very depressing news.
1. All for Naught

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or Batman. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Vampire Hunter D and related characters belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi and UrbanVision.

Originally for TwistedShorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge (Day 22)

A/N: So, this idea originally comes from Slinky_And_The_BloodyWands, so she graciously let me adopt it. The setting for Buffy, at the beginning, is within the end of season 6. As for Vampire Hunter D, I'll be drawing mostly from the novels. Also, this is more of a part one than anything else, but I'm choosing to do the two of them as separate one-shots because of the different tones of each one. This one is kind of bleak.

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**All for Naught**

It hadn't worked. Dawn huddled herself into the corner, hugging her legs as she stared in horror at the rapidly cooling body of Tara Maclay. She was too shocked to cry, her face frozen in that one terrible moment of discovery. She had tried to save Tara. After all, Willow and the rest had brought Buffy back to life… why couldn't she do the same for Tara? But Dawn had worked the best spell she could find… only to see that Tara was still dearly departed.

"Oh, God," Dawn murmured as she began to rock, ever so slightly, back and forth. "Tara…"

#

Tara blinked against the burst of light. She was dead. Was this her metaphorical tunnel? But it didn't feel like a tunnel. Actually, it felt a whole hell of a lot like a coffin. She allowed her eyes to flutter aimlessly for a moment until she could finally focus on what was in front of her—or above her, as the case may be.

A hand—and she could have sworn there had been a _face_ in that hand—was pulling away from her forehead, coming to rest at the side of a black-clad man with long raven hair, a wide fedora hat, and long cape that made it seem as if he was made from the very shadows that surrounded wherever the hell she was at. She narrowed her gaze at him, a little unsettled by how attractive he was—and this was even considering her particular orientation.

"She's alive," a hoarse voice said, and Tara couldn't understand why the beautiful man's lips had not moved.

"Human?" a different voice, this one accompanied by the motion of his lips, inquired.

She liked this man's voice. Even in her fogged state of mind, she felt safe, for some reason, just by hearing its velvet tones.

"What's your name?" the hoarse voice asked.

Tara took a deep breath, ready to push out the answer with her exhale. But talking hurt, like someone had sandpapered her throat, and only a rough croak came out.

"Poor girl. She's been in stasis sleep for so long that her voice has gone on her. That'll fix as soon as she gets properly hydrated. Yeah, she's human, D, so get her some water. And for the love of God, let's get her out of that coffin."

Coffin? Tara blinked, turning her head to the right. Sure enough, she was laying flat on her back in a satin lined box that looked fairly new. However, that was not what disturbed her. Laying almost right on top of her was the body of another, paler man whose blonde hair was spiked and almost as lightly colored as Spike's. But this wasn't Spike, not in the least. He was dressed in some fancy black get-up, like something a prince would wear. Tara whimpered—the only noise she could fully manage—and reached up for the edges of the coffin. She pulled, finding her muscles feeling heavy and a little like jelly—like she had just woken up from a drug induced sleep—and D, the beautiful man, had to catch her before she fell out of the coffin. He managed to get her on her feet, not saying anything. He didn't seem the least bit surprised to find a human woman in bed—coffin—with a vampire either. She opened her mouth again, trying to force several questions out. In the end, all she managed was a few more croaks.

"Easy," D said. "It'll come back in time."

She really hoped so. D moved her aside to a large piece of stonework that had fallen from the castle's—this was a castle, right? It looked like one—high ceiling. He bent to one knee, presumably about to ask her more questions. However, before he could even part his lips, the hoarse voice that Tara was now entirely sure was coming from his left hand, cried out, "D! The noble!"

The man who had been lying in the coffin with her rose, fangs bared. His face might not have transformed into the rigid mess that Spike or any other vampire in Sunnydale had, but Tara knew a vampire when she saw one. And she had no idea what this vampire had to do with some noble. Maybe he _was_ a prince.

D whirled, drawing his long sword from his sheath with a flash of silver. The vampire hissed, diving for him. Without flinching, he drove the sword all the way through the vampire's body, splitting in half symmetrically. Tara's eyes widened as the vampire hit the ground as dust.

"Let's go," D said, pulling Tara to her feet without asking.

Tara was trying her best to vocalize, but her dried, unused cords weren't having it. So, feeling a little bit like a duck lost in the middle of the ocean, she simply followed along behind D as they left the castle.

#

It wasn't until the next night that Tara's voice finally returned. She estimated drinking, roughly, fifteen canteens of water between leaving the creepy castle and where she was now—sitting outside in the barren, monster-infested Frontier as D called it.

"My name is Tara," she said without warning.

D looked up from his place sitting underneath a tree, resting his back on the trunk. He said nothing, allowing Tara all the time she needed to ask the questions she had.

"Where am I? Is it another dimension? How did I get into that coffin? Was I dead?"

"One at a time, kiddo. First of all, you're in the Frontier. And no, you weren't dead, seeing as you're here now. And what kind of person asks if they're in another dimension?" the hoarse voice replied.

"Look. All I know is that I was shot, and I thought I died. But then I wake up in some strange, barren land beside a vampire. I mean, seriously, is this even planet Earth?"

"Yes," D answered. "The year is 12,090."

Tara felt like she was going to vomit. 12,090? That meant she had been dead and buried for… a long damn time. She should have been dust long time ago.

"How did I end up sharing a coffin with the vampire?" she asked.

"That's what I want to know."

Tara stood, pacing back and forth. "This is another dimension. It's gotta be. This can't be real."

"I found records before I found you," D explained, not bothering to stand. "Apparently the noble you woke up with had sensed that you were not actually dead, but under a spell."

"A spell? Noble? What's a noble?"

"A vampire, kiddo," the hoarse voice said, sounding exasperated. "When did you die?"

"2002."

Now D had a flicker of surprise cross his face. Tara sank to the ground, feeling cold despite the rather warm temperature of the air.

"What _happened_?"

And D explained. He told her how the 3rd World War had nearly wiped out humanity, giving the vampires every advantage they had ever dreamed of. They had taken over the world, ruling it like an empire, calling themselves Nobility. Humans were treated like slaves and cattle until, only a few thousand years ago, there was a decline. Humans were taking over the Earth once more, fighting viciously for whatever they could hold on to.

"But… what about The Slayer?" Tara asked.

D's brow arched ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

"The _vampire_ slayer. I had a friend, before I died, who was a slayer. It was a whole mystical defense rule thing. To each generation, a slayer is born with the strength and agility to fight the vampire. What happened to the slayer?"

"Sorry, kiddo. Never heard of a Slayer before," Left Hand said.

"Nothing's left?" Tara whispered, feeling hot tears welling in her eyes. "They won?"

"You can travel with us as far as the next town," D said evenly. "You can begin your life again there."

But Tara shook her head.

"I'm a witch, a powerful one, and I fought alongside the vampire slayer of my time. I'm not just gonna sit back and accept this. You kill vampires, don't you? Is that what you do professionally?"

"Vampires, werewolves, pretty much whatever you need killed, D will do it," Left Hand chuckled.

"Quite," D said, clenching his hand into a fist.

"Then I'm tagging along. My friends fought hard, making a lot of sacrifices to make sure this didn't happen… and it did. I w-want to help undo it. And that's all there is to it."

"No."

"You can't stop me."

D's only response was to lower his hat over his eyes. Tara sighed. This world needed a fighter. Someone who knew what it was like before all of this… this _hell_. She didn't know how she was still alive after she'd been shot, but now she knew why.

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End Notes: I want to do a fanart to this so bad. I think I will one day when I get a free moment—got a lot coming up for me. Meanwhile, like I said in the author's notes, this is really part I. So if you're interested in part II—or any further parts I do, as I know I will continue this—you can just add this to story alerts. I'll be uploading any additional parts on as chapters. Part II is written and will be added soon. Please review!


	2. Fate and Coincidence

Disclaimer: I don't own Buffy or Vampire Hunter D. Buffy and related characters belong to Whedon. Vampire Hunter D and related characters belong to UrbanViz and Hideyuki Kikuchi.

Originally for TwistedShorts August Fic-a-Day Challenge (Day 31)

A/N: Well, this is it. The 31st fic in the 2011 August Fic-A-Day Challenge. I can't believe I made it all the way here. Well, I'm glad I did. Anyway, this fic is set, obviously, post season 7 of Buffy, disregarding the comics save for a few fun things here and there. As for Vampire Hunter D, I take a lot from the novels—since I've read almost all the English translation ones, including the manga based on them. Enjoy!

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**Fate and Coincidence**

There was one thing that had always baffled Tara about her awakening. Why had she been cuddled up close to a vampire—Noble, as they were mostly called now? It bothered her more than she said, since she was pretty sure her Willow Tree would have never buried her with a vampire. Granted, a lot of time had passed since then, so Willow probably had no idea that her Tara would wake up—ever.

It hurt Tara to think about Willow, to think on how she was probably long dead and dust. That was something she didn't like to talk about it. Goddess knew, though, that Left Hand—the demon, spirit, whatever that possessed D's left hand—liked to egg her on. He talked almost constantly to her, trying to get her to talk about her life before she had awakened with the Noble. The records that D had found—D, the half-blood vampire she had stuck to like glue despite his threats to leave her in the next town, and the town after that, and so on—had actually nothing about why, specifically, the vampire who had found her had decided to keep her alive and use her as his personal teddy bear.

It seemed she would never know the truth behind it, as the trio moved almost constantly through the Frontier. When she had finally talked D into showing her a map of landscape, she had gasped. The "Frontier" was what she had once known as Europe and Asia, which raised even more questions for her. She had been buried in the good ol' US of A. How the hell had she gotten to Europe?

"You might just wanna give it up, sweetheart," Left Hand said one night as they made camp. "Records from your time are few and very, very far between. Nuclear weaponry tends to do that."

Tara shook her head. "I wouldn't expect to find a record specifically mentioning me. I w-wasn't very important. But my friends Buffy, Willow, Xander… all of them, even Spike… there should be _some_ record of them. I mean, they did great things… well, Spike mostly killed people."

"Spike?" Left Hand asked.

Tara waved her hand. "Vampire who had a crush on Buffy, big time."

"I've never heard of a noble named Spike," D said, causing Tara to jump.

D didn't speak much. He was more of kick-ass now, take names later kind of guy. She never really knew when to expect the monotone dhampire to put in his two cents.

"Historical name of William the Bloody?" she offered.

"Wasn't that the vampire who claimed that the Sacred Ancestor owed him money?" Left Hand asked.

Suddenly, Tara's eyes widened. "You mean that Dracula is this Sacred Ancestor you two keep talking about? He's the one who ruled all the vampires when they were in their heyday?"

"You know him?" D asked, sounding genuinely interested in her for the first time.

"Well, not personally. But Buffy… she fought him. He came to Sunnydale for her."

Left Hand and D exchanged a look, which was friggin' hilarious considering the fact that it was D's own hand. Suddenly, the dhampire stood.

"I need to take you somewhere," he said.

It took him only moments to pack up the camping gear he had set out specifically for the witch. In another flash, he had pulled her up on his black steed, sitting her in front of him. With one crack of the reins, they were off into the night.

#

Tara wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep, but when she had woken up once more, it was daylight. And they were crossing a long drawbridge into a castle that looked largely abandoned. She shook herself into alertness, running through a list of spells in her mind that might be useful for whatever it was that might be up ahead.

"Don't bother," Left hand said. "D cleaned this place out eons ago when he—argmh"

D tightened his hand around his reins, cutting off Left Hand's sentence. Tara looked back at the stoic hunter, narrowing her eyes at him. When he what? Something told her that he wouldn't answer if she asked. They finally entered into the center of the castle's dead garden in the courtyard. D dismounted, pulling Tara down beside him.

"Follow me," he said, entering the castle as if he had done this a million times before.

And for all Tara knew, he had. The castle was dusty, and Tara sneezed at least twenty times before they cleared into the main foyer of the castle. Once there, she gasped. Even through the cobwebs, the place was magnificent. Its floors were a polished red color, and she couldn't figure out what the material was that yielded such a rich tone. The musty drapes that hung from all the columns around the room were just as red, hemmed in gold. Two broken staircases still tried to wind their way toward the upper part of the castle. And in the center of the staircases, on the bottom floor, was a large computer.

Tara narrowed her eyes. The computer just seemed so out of place, especially considering the large ornate portrait of Dracula hanging above it. It was then that she paused, her eyes darting back and forth between the painting and D.

"Your father?" she asked, but received no answer.

Instead, D just made his way over to the computer, hitting one of the larger buttons on it before finally typing something in on its keyboard. His hand paused, hovering over another button. He turned back to Tara.

"Your lover, Willow, she was a powerful witch, wasn't she?" he asked.

Tara pursed her lips, nodding. "How do you know that? I've never mentioned her being a witch to you."

"I know because I've met her."

He hit a single key on the machine, and a holograph, all static-y, projected itself on the floor behind D and Tara. Tara whirled, eyes wide.

"Willow?" she whispered.

"Tara," she said, and the blonde witch gasped, choking back the tears that threatened to roll down her cheeks.

Tara gasped, shaking her head. It was Willow, without a doubt, but there was something definitely different about her. Her hair was long and black, and she wore a long mauve dress that looked like it belonged to a time before this one—even before Tara's. Her pale face was too pale, blue veins edging in on her cheeks. And her eyes… her eyes were _black_.

"Willow…"

"It took me a while to figure out what Dawn had done," Willow explained, and Tara had to remind herself that this was nothing but a recording. "I felt it when I visited your grave for the first time. You weren't dead. You were only sleeping. When I knew what Buffy was going to do, I had a feeling that Sunnydale wasn't going to survive. So I moved you, Tara. I buried you out near Stonehenge, because you said that that's where you wanted to buried, remember?"

"I remember," Tara nodded.

"I'm getting off subject," the holograph sniffled. "Things happened, Tara. So much that I can't possibly tell you here. Buffy made many slayers, we fought, and in the end, it was for nothing. The big bads still won. And I changed. The magic I had used all those years had an… interesting side effect. Goddess, Tara, when you find this… odds are I'll still be alive."

Tara blinked, shock running through her body like electricity. Holograph Willow shook her head.

"It was fate, Tara, not coincidence, that made Dawn use the wrong spell. I see that now. You have to find me Tara… and you have to save me. I won't be the Willow you knew."

She grinned, a little wryly. Tara shook her head. Save her? From what?

"One more thing, in honor of Andrew, wherever he is now," Willow said, seeming to motion at the fact that she was in holograph form. "Help me, Tara Maclay, you're my only hope."

Tara laughed, a tear rolling down, as the holograph turned itself off. She turned toward her dhampire companion, who only stared evenly back at her.

"I have to do it. I have to save her," Tara said. "Will you help me?"

"You're barking up the wrong tree, sister," Left hand scoffed. "This one is nothing if not for a—"

"Yes."

Tara grinned at D as Left Hand let out an indignant, "What?"

"Where do we start?" the vampire hunter asked.

Tara grinned. "Stonehenge. I don't know why, but I think that's a good starting point. Besides, I'd like to know if the stones are still standing."

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End Notes: Okay, so this so needs a Part III and so on. I do plan to continue this, but not for a little bit. I have some other things on my plate right now that need to happen first. I hope you enjoyed. Please review!


	3. Sleep Softly

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Vampire Hunter D. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Vampire Hunter D and related characters belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi and UrbanVision. No money made.

**Written for Aug. Fic-a-Day 2012 (Day 04)**

**A/N:** More on the subject of tying up loose ends from last August Fic-a-Day, here's the next in this series. Enjoy and please review!

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**Sleep Softly**

Stonehenge still stood. Tara was awestruck as she dismounted from the black, cyborg stallion. Thousands of years, since time long before Tara had even existed, and a nuclear war… and the circle of stones still stood tall and proud. Tara counted it as a testament to the sheer power of the Druids that had built it. Only great magicks could keep something like this standing over such obstacles.

"12,090 AD… Stonehenge," the blonde witch muttered, walking reverently toward the center piles of stone.

D, the half-vampire who had found Tara upon her awaking in the arms of a strange vampire, dismounted and followed silently behind her. His possessed Left Hand, however, did not give her the same courtesy.

"So, what exactly are we looking for here, toots?" he asked, his voice as gruff as ever.

D closed the short distance between Tara and himself as they continued their walk toward the center of the erected stones. His long black hair and ebony cape caught in a breeze billowed around him. Tara lifted a hand to keep her long locks out of her face as the skirt of her yellow dress showed the shape of her legs.

"Answers," she muttered.

"As to why you were moved?" D asked in his monotone voice.

Tara nodded, moving away from the center now. Stonehenge was bigger than she would have supposed, and it more than bummed her out to know that—other than the present—the only time she had ever been to see it was when she was dead and buried.

"The message Willow left said she buried me here when she knew that Sunnydale wouldn't survive what Buffy had planned," Tara explained.

It still made her heart ache to think about it. She had been sure that Willow would be long gone in this time—this time where vampires had ruled the earth that had remained following a third World War; this time where vampires were just now retreating back into the shadows. But D had shown her a message, a hologram, left behind specifically for her from her Willow Tree. And what it had contained had rocked her down to her very soul. Willow was alive, kept so by the magicks she had practiced, but she had issued Tara a warning, as well as a plea. She had said that she wouldn't be the same Willow Tara had known, and she had asked her lover to save her. The shock of it had left Tara reeling on the inside. Save her from what? And then she had realized.

Willow wanted to be saved from herself.

Tara stopped beside one of the gray, tall standing stones and placed her hand on it, putting all of her weight into a lean. She put her face in her other hand, sighing. In a moment, the too-pale D stood over her, his shadow as dark as his armor.

"What's wrong?" he asked.

It was a rarity, she knew that, that D would inquire how she felt. Not once since finding her had he truly asked that. And Left Hand seemed to constantly remind her that D was one cold S.O.B. But he had agreed to help her solve this mystery, to help her Willow, which had shocked the possessed appendage to no end. Now, Tara shook her head.

"She was better, D. Before I died… Willow was better. She wasn't addicted to magic anymore. Did I do it? Was I the straw that broke the camel's back? Did I send her to the Dark Side?"

"One thing at a time. Let's find your grave," D said without a single hint of remorse.

He turned from the witch and strode away, leaving Tara to gaze after him. Maybe Left Hand was right. D was not a caring man. She pushed herself off of the stone, trailing after him. He seemed to know where he was going, so she asked no questions as he moved beyond the standing stones toward an open, desolate field.

"Here," he said, stopping.

Removing his long, silver blade from the sheath on his back, he plunged it into the earth at his feet. Tara arched a brow at him, moving closer. She stopped just close enough to the sword that one wrong move would have something on her cut. Closing her eyes, she invoked the goddess, calling on her to help her search the earth beneath her feet. D stood with one hand, his right, remaining on the hilt of his blade. When Tara finished her spell, she nodded.

"You're right. The earth is disturbed here. Help me dig," she said, dropping to her knees.

She had roughly eight handfuls of earth dug up before D said, "Move." She didn't stop, and it took the half-vampire placing a hand on her shoulder to get her to even look up at him. She nodded, stepping back a few paces.

Tara could not explain the how, but D in no time at all had dug up the entire, former grave with only his sword. And when he was finished, standing it a hole up to his shoulders, the blade hit something wooden and soft. Tara dropped to her knees once more, scooting forward to see what her companion had found.

A coffin, plain and half-rotted rested below the half-blood's feet.

"Open it," Tara said.

"Uh, you sure about that, sweetheart?" Left Hand asked, but D didn't hesitate.

The lid all but crumbled in his hands as he tossed the debris away. Inside, the silk lining was just as rotted and hung in rags all around the sides. But it was the items inside that drew the group's eyes. A black leather bundle of clothes and a small disc. D reached for the disc, climbing out of the grave. He whistled and the stallion galloped over to them. He withdrew from the saddlebags a small, metal something that looked like part of a computer. He slid the disc inside a thin slit in the side, pressed a couple of buttons, and then laid it upon the ground. Within moments, another hologram of Willow stood before them. She was dressed as she was before, in the medieval style mauve dress with her hair long and black, blue veins edging in on her face, and her solid, haunting black eyes.

"I knew you would think to search here first, if you found my other message. You're probably wondering why you woke up with a vampire, instead of at Stonehenge, like I wanted you to? Well, you can thank our president for that. You see, he was the one that pushed the button first, launched the first weapon. And its target was here."

She spread her arms out, indicating the space all around her.

"England. Now, I won't go into why… that's a whole lot of nothing-to-do-with-us, but I will say that I feared for you again. By then, the group of slayers that Buffy had created were a force unto themselves, one to be reckoned with. And some of the monsters we fought… well, some were stronger than others. You know what they say… there's always someone better. A stronger foe appeared, and it forced the slayers to do the unimaginable. We made friends with vampires… ones that didn't have their souls."

Tara shook her head as she bit so hard at her bottom lip that she was sure it was going to bleed. How could they have done that? Now a whole new line of questions rose in Tara's minds, and she didn't like where it was leading. Did the slayers facilitate the rise of the vampires? Were they too buddy-buddy with them to save the world, like they were supposed to?

"So I called on that alliance, and I entrusted you to a vampire named Michael. He kept you with him for a long, long time. So long in fact, that when the time came for him to hide, when humans were retaking the world as theirs, he took you to sleep with him. Something I was not particularly fond of, but it was still the safest course for you, nonetheless."

Tara felt sick. Willow _had_ put her in the hands of a vampire, deliberately. She put her back to the hologram, covering her mouth with her hands. Her lungs felt squeezed tight, wanting for air but unable to expand for it. How could her Willow Tree have done it? How?

"You're angry with me, disappointed," the holo Willow said now, and she had the deepest remorse in her voice.

Tara turned back to the message. She wanted to rage, to scream at it, but it was nothing but a recording. Her real Willow was long gone, as she was slowly learning.

"So, as an apology, I left you another gift inside the coffin. You'll know what it means. I'm waiting for you, Tara, and I promise, all your questions will be answered. I'll see you soon. You'll find my capital soon enough. I love you. Remember that."

With that, the holo ended, and it left Tara baffled. Her capital? The vampires had given Willow a city? That thought did not help the ill feeling in the pit of her stomach. She simply stood there, staring where the projection had once been, unable to move. D, meanwhile, delved back into the coffin. When he leaped back up onto solid ground, he held out the leather garment that had been left inside.

"You know why Willow would leave you this?" he asked.

Tara stared at the half-blood, trying to make herself focus on the item in his hands. And once she did, she grinned. Held up so that it fell from shoulder to ground, was an all too familiar leather duster. Tara snatched it from D's hands and laughed.

"Yeah. I do. Let's go, D. We've got more answers to find."

"Where do we go now, though?" Left Hand asked. "We don't have any other link to Willow."

Tara pursed her lips, thinking. "She said s-something about a capital. I think that's important."

D nodded. "Very well. Let's go."

Tara balled up the duster, shoving it inside one of the horse's saddlebags along with the holo-reader. If that familiar duster meant what she thought it did, she might finally be able to get the answers she needed after all.


	4. Dark Amazon

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Vampire Hunter D. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Vampire Hunter D and related characters belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi and UrbanVision. No money made.

**A/N:** More on the subject of tying up loose ends from last August Fic-a-Day, This is the fourth in a Vampire Hunter D/Buffy crossover that I started. They're already combined into a series at TTH, but the first three are called All for Naught, Fate and Coincidence, and Sleep Softly. Please enjoy!

* * *

**Dark Amazon**

Tara was awake. She could sense that much. And she knew that Tara was searching… for her. And she was waiting. Her time of reckoning would soon be at hand. But until then… all she had was the wait.

Dressed in a wide mauve ball gown, her hair long and ebony, Willow traversed the abandoned castle's halls, her long fingernails scraping along the gray bricks of the walls. She knew what her Tara was really like, more than Buffy or any of the others had ever known. She had been her lover, her first true love, the first person to see Willow as she truly was. So Willow knew that the gift of the black leather duster and the holo-disc that had been found in the site that had formerly been Tara's grave would be well served. And, if rumors of this D that had found her were true, then Michael—the vampire Willow had entrusted the sleeping Tara to long ago, just before the start of the third world war that would bring the vampires into power—was dead.

Willow had had many years to ponder her choices, and the choices of her friends. The slayers had allied with their enemies just before the last great war in favor of fending off the powerful OSBs—Outer Space Beings; aliens in layman's terms. In return of such power afforded to them, the vampires, true to their own natures, had run rampant. And soon the slayers that Buffy had made just weren't enough. And that left only Willow, wild from her usage of magic too dark for her own good, with years that she should not have had, left to make a choice of her own: join with Dracula, the Sacred Ancestor as he was now called, or die. She chose the former.

And now she was known as "The Witch," feared all across the desolate land known as the Frontier. She had aided the vampires in the creation of new monsters, hybrids of several different species of demon, as well as helped boost the power of the monsters that already existed.

All these things that she caused lived in her mind constantly, replaying like a broken hologram as she descended the stairs of Castle Themiscyra. Down and down she traveled until she reached the belly of the beast—the dungeon. The smell of the blood spilled by those who had been imprisoned here—not just for punishment, but sometimes for entertainment value—still soaked the walls and floors. Willow found her way to her guest quickly, the only one still kicking in the dungeon. She lifted the skirts of her dress to avoid the rats that chewed on the bones of the long dead, and she did not stop walking until she reached the very back wall. Chained to it, dressed in simple black pains and a rough cotton shirt cut in the style of tunics, his hair between the dyed blond it had been and its natural red, was Spike. Or William the Bloody, as the stories like to re-imagine him as—"Spike" just didn't sound scary enough when you were trying to keep your kind's foothold in power. Besides, Spike had long since been gifted with a soul, making him a bit kinder toward the humans he had killed so many of in his younger years. And now that soul was not so kind to him.

Willow picked up the branding iron from its bed of glowing coals, holding it aloft. Spike's eyes widened, his attempt to focus.

"She's coming. Soon. Not too much longer of this," Willow said, pressing the iron into the vampire's right breast.

He roared, his face contorting back and forth between its demon self and its human visage. Willow shoved the iron back into the coals, gently shushing him. She placed a long, slender finger to her lips, floating her hand across to his lips to do the same.

"It's almost over. All the cuts, stabs, burning… all of it. And it serves its purpose. I have to buy myself time, you understand, Spike."

The vampire mumbled something, but she couldn't discern it. It didn't matter. She had deprived him of his sanity—for the second time in his existence—years ago. He was her one perk to being a servant to the vampires. She could do whatever it was she wished with him. And she had used him to set her plan into motion.

She pulled her finger away, pinching his chin in her hand.

"Tara's coming, Spike, just as I said she would. Now you have to be a good little vampire and tell her all about how mean and awful and evil I've become, okay?"

Again, he muttered something, but a nod accompanied it this time. Willow pulled her hand away, smiling. She had been told by several that her smile never reached her coal-black eyes. She wouldn't know. She had avoided mirrors for years.

"I'm going to wait for her. When she comes, all she will find is you, though. Play your part, Spike. Who knows? Maybe you'll become a real boy after all."

She turned on her heel, making her way back toward the upper levels of the castle. However, just at the foot of the staircase, she paused. Glancing over her shoulder, she added, "Especially since your competition died off years ago."

She got no response, and that was exactly what she had expected. She made her way up several winding staircases, coming to a stop only when she had reached the fourth or fifth floor of the decaying castle. She moved to stand at a window that overlooked the courtyard, its flowers long wilted and brown.

"I'm waiting for you, Tara. I've waited so long," she muttered to the one who could not hear her.

She stood at the window for hours, until those hours turned into days. And, on the fifth day, she spotted them. On a black cyborg stallion—created to best survive in this post-apocalyptic world—there were two of them. A gorgeous youth of a man with too pale skin, pointed features, and long ebony hair that extended down further on him than Willow's own hair did on her. He was dressed entirely in black, and seated before him on the saddle, dressed in a beautiful yellow dress, was a face Willow had never forgotten.

She leaned into the window, rested her hand on the frame.

"Soon, Tara. You'll find me soon."

Willow pushed herself backward, away from the window, and into a cloud of swirling blue clouds. When the clouds cleared, she was gone.

Gone… just before Tara and D entered the courtyard.


	5. Old Friends

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Vampire Hunter D. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Vampire Hunter D and related characters belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi and UrbanVision. No money made.

**A/N:** More on the subject of tying up loose ends from last August Fic-a-Day, This is the fifth in a Vampire Hunter D/Buffy crossover that I started. Please enjoy!

* * *

**Old Friends**

Tara stood by the neck of the cyborg horse, patting it gently, as she stared into the dead garden beyond the outer walls of the castle. D—the half-vampire who had found her when she had awoken in the arms of a vampire she now knew to be named Michael—strode forth very deliberately, without an ounce of fear or trepidation in his steps. Of course, she had seen it time and again in the short while she had been awake in this world—the world of post-nuclear war-vampire ruled Earth in 12,090 AD. The pair of them—trio if you included the lively personality of D's possessed Left Hand—had rode through village after village, and every time it was a mixture of awe and anxiety on the villagers' faces when the beautiful man rode by. But D never wavered. He was always the same, stoic being who spoke in a strong, but monotone voice, and he had yet to be defeated by any of the monsters they had encountered in their travels. Tara wished she knew his secret.

"Are you sure of this?" D asked just as Tara caught up with him in the center of the courtyard.

Tara cast her gaze all about, her heart saddened by the brown and brittle flowers that surrounded them. She bit lightly at her lip and nodded.

"I knew it as soon as I heard the name. It all made sense. This is what Willow called her capital."

Her Willow Tree, no matter how corrupt or evil she had become, had left her clues. Little things here and there to lead Tara to her. The last had been left in the coffin Tara's body had formerly occupied at Stonehenge. A black leather duster and holo-disc, on which Willow had spoken of "her capital."

"What makes you so sure, sweetheart?" D's gruff-voiced Left Hand asked.

"I c-called her my Amazon. Because she was so strong and beautiful," Tara explained in a voice that was almost a whisper.

But D heard, as he heard a million other things that Tara didn't. He acknowledged this statement with a small glance over his ebony-armored shoulder. His black fedora was pulled low over his eyes, casting a shadow on them, but Tara knew what he wanted. He wanted her to elaborate.

"The capital city of the Amazons was Themiscyra. As soon as I heard the villagers, and you, speak of the old Castle Themiscyra, I knew that's where she wanted me to go to next."

D nodded, his raven locks barely moving with the motion. He turned his eyes back to the castle.

"The vampire lord who lived here died long ago," Left Hand said. "Rumor was that the villagers were responsible, but I think they might have had some help."

Tara moved so that she now stood side by side with D. "What do you mean?"

"The Noble was considered a traitor, so the Sacred Ancestor punished him," D continued.

Tara would never get use to that term—_noble_—being used by the vampires. They had grown so high and mighty that they had considered themselves royalty, above everyone else, especially humans. She sighed and noticed that D had unsheathed his long, silver blade. With a _whoosh_ of his cape, he took off at a run, at a pace which Tara could never match. But that did not keep her from trying. She followed the sound of his boots on stone as he rushed inside the enormous, crumbling castle, and continued to do so until she arrived in the dungeon. D had already been there for several moments, standing so that he faced the very back wall.

The smells of suffering still lingered in this place, with the iron-strong smell of blood being the most prominent. Tara lifted a sleeve of her yellow dress to her nose, careful to keep it covered as she approached where D stood.

"A vampire, but not your average one," Left Hand said just as Tara saw what the half-blood vampire was staring at.

"Spike!" she said.

The vampire's blond hair was fading back to its original color, and he had a burn mark in the rough cotton tunic he wore. He all but hung from the shackles that had him locked to the wall, and his face was downturned, as if he had not realized that there were two people standing less than three feet from him.

"He's got a soul," D said, as if this was nothing out of the ordinary.

But that news made Tara's eyes widen. After all, the only vampire she had ever heard of having a soul was Angel. Willow had told her all about him. The Spike she had known while she had been alive was a monster, losing his hatefulness ever so slowly only because of his love for Buffy. Was it true? Could he have gone so far as to obtain a soul? Just for Buffy?

"Spike…" Tara said softly.

"This is William the Bloody?" D asked.

Tara nodded as Spike's head lolled upward. He blinked at them, scoffing after a moment.

"Lost my marbles again, I did," he said. Then, with a sigh and a shake of a head, he added, "Another torture the witch has conjured. She gets crueler all the time."

"The Witch? Do you mean Willow?" Tara asked.

Spike laughed. "You bloody well know I do!"

Tara turned to D. "We can't just leave him here. I think… I think Willow wanted me to find him. He's another clue."

"You mean you want to drag a crazy vampire around with us? Seriously?" Left Hand asked.

D, of course, said nothing. Tara shook her head.

"He's not _that_ crazy."

"Butterflies, butterflies. I had 'em in my stomach, once, but she's gone and killed them all," Spike said, a saddening chuckle accompanying his words.

"Okay. Maybe he is crazy. But also, maybe we could help him. And he could help us. You said he has a soul? Can you be sure?"

D nodded. "I can smell it on him."

"Then let's take him."

"You're out of your mind, lady," Left Hand scoffed.

"Please! He's the only way we can learn more about Willow!"

This was followed by a long period of silence in which Tara simply stared up at D, pleading with her eyes. Finally, the dhampire sheathed his weapon. He cross the short distance in a couple of steps and ripped the chains holding Spike from the wall. Spike toppled forward, with Tara just narrowly being able to catch him.

"Let's get him out of here," D said, putting one of Spike's arms about his shoulders.

Spikes head lolled again, and he groaned. Looking up at Tara, his eyes seemed to clear, like he was suddenly aware of everything that was going on.

"Tara?" he asked.

That crazy edge to his voice was gone, and he sounded like the cocky vampire Tara knew him to be again.

"She said you would come. I stopped believing her centuries ago."

Tara's heart broke. What had Willow done to him? He grew silent after that, and D and Tara dragged him out to the horse.

#

They travelled aimlessly for days, and they had to acquire a second horse. Tara had spent these days—covering Spike completely for the daylight hours—trying her best to come up with a way to bring back his sanity a little more quickly. But she only had a certain number of spells memorized, and the magicks that D knew were nothing near what she required. Finally, though, one night as they made camp, it was Left Hand who had the idea.

They sat Spike upright, and D gathered the items that Left Hand needed to draw power—some from all four elements. The possessed appendage called the spell The Big Four, and Tara could only hope that it would help Spike. Once all samples of the elements were gathered, and consumed, D placed his Left Hand upon Spike's forehead. Tara counted five whole seconds before a bright flash of blinding white light appeared from Left Hand. A force of wind followed, and it knocked both Tara and Spike off their seats. Tara was the first to recover, launching herself back to her feet.

"Did it work?" she asked.

D shook his head, and all eyes were upon Spike. He wasn't moving, and Tara was worried that Left Hand had only hurt him further. Finally, though, the vampire groaned, shoving the heel of his hand to his forehead.

"Bloody hell, was that necessary?" he said, sitting up. "I mean, really?"

"Spike?" Tara asked, inching nearer to him.

He blinked a couple of times before looking up at her. "Tara?"

She nodded. He laughed.

"You know, I thought ol' Will was just as crazy as I was, talking about how you were coming back and all that. But I guess she wasn't."

Tara helped the vampire to his feet, a wide grin spreading across her face. "You're not crazy anymore?"

"I'm not?" he stopped and seemed to ponder that for a moment. "Huh. I guess I'm not. Thanks, doc. Don't know what was in that spell you hit me with, but it was just what was ordered."

"And you really have a soul?" Tara asked.

Spike nodded, knocking at his chest like someone might knock on a door.

"For several, several, several centuries now."

D stood. "What do you know about The Witch?"

Spike arched a brow at him. "Who's this, then?"

"This is D."

"D? You mean Drac's little pride and joy? Yeah, I remember you. Caused quite a ruckus in the ranks when you went rogue."

Tara whirled to D. "You're Dracula's _son_?"

D ignored her. "Answer the question, Spike."

"Gladly. Where would you like me to begin?"

Spike took a seat close to the fire they had built, and Tara soon followed suit.

"What happened to her? Why is Willow like this?"

"The magic. The same as it was when you were alive, pet. Or, before you took the world's longest nap, as it were. She had to use too dark of magic for too long. It started right after she made a bunch of slayers. Then, the bloody idiots went and allied themselves with vampires right when the OSBs attacked."

Tara's brow furrowed. "OSBs?"

"Outer Space Beings. Their power rivaled that of the Nobility. They almost destroyed the world," Left Hand answered.

"Who said that?" Spike asked.

"D's Left Hand. It's possessed by a demon… spirit… something. It has its own mind," Tara explained.

Spike cracked up, even slapping his knee. "For real?"

D nodded, and Spike roared with laughter again.

"How do you ever get some alone time with that thing? I mean, a man's got urges. Surely you can't indulge them with a separate little man living in your hand. You know, unless you're into that sort of thing."

"On subject, Spike!" Tara demanded.

After all, she really wasn't in the mood to see D fight it out with the vampire.

"Oh, yeah, right. Where was I? Oh, yeah. So they sent me and Angel to make a deal with the vampires to fight off the OSBs. The deal was supposed to end right after they were defeated… but it didn't. There were those who liked the idea of the team-up a little too much. In the end, the slayers were hunted down. And Angel went down fighting with them."

"Was this before or after the war?"

"You mean the big one? After. The slayers were greatly outnumbered. They'd lost too many in World War III. And the alliance gave away every secret they had. Dracula had no trouble rallying his personal troops to kill them all."

"And Willow? How does she fit in?"

Spike sighed. "Poor Red. You see, she'd started noticing things. About herself. She was healing faster—even faster than Buffy. She'd stopped aging. The magic was infused with her now. When all the slayers—with a good helping of Wiccans too—were dead, the vampires didn't want to kill her. So they gave her a choice—die or work with us. Willow thought she could help bring them down from the inside. Sort of a James Bond Mission Impossible type of thing."

Now Spike frowned, and Tara mimicked the move.

"But it didn't work."

He nodded. Tara sighed. "And you? How did you end up in the dungeon tortured to insanity?"

"She asked for me. When I gave the new vampire regime the big ol' middle finger, I became hunted. So she asked for me, to use for her own purposes. As for what those were, I don't know."

"I think this was it," D said.

Tara gazed up at the dhampire. "What do you mean?"

"She wanted us to know what happened. She wanted to arm you with the knowledge of the past in the only way she knew how. With him. Otherwise, he'd have been dead long ago."

Spike shook his head. "As much as I'd like to argue, Mr. Tall and Dark here might have a point."

Tara hung her head. "But… I d-don't even know where she is now."

"Because she's not ready for you to come for her yet. But I think that time's getting closer, toots," Left Hand said.

"Wish I could help more," Spike said.

Tara smiled at him. "You could. You could stay with us while we continue looking for her. She said, in the first hologram I saw of her, that she wanted to be saved. Will you help me do that?"

Spike kicked at a clump of dirt on the ground. "Not like I've got anything else to do, pet. Sure."

Tara muttered her thanks and stood, facing D. She shrugged. "I don't know what to do now."

"We wait. Get some sleep," D said, motioning to the tent behind him.

"Wait for what?"

"Her next clue."

Tara felt ill, but nodded. She crawled into the tent, leaving Spike alone with D. In retrospect, she knew that might not be the smartest idea… but right now, all she wanted was rest. After all, facing off with her Willow Tree was the last thing in the world she wanted… but it was also the most important thing she would ever have to do.


	6. Ashes, Ashes

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Buffy the Vampire Slayer or Vampire Hunter D. Buffy belongs to Whedon, and Vampire Hunter D and related characters belong to Hideyuki Kikuchi and UrbanVision. No money made.

**A/N:** This is the last in the Vampire Hunter D/Buffy crossover that I started last Fic-a-Day for Twisting the Hellmouth. Please enjoy!

* * *

**Ashes, Ashes**

Willow had moved on to Sunnydale. Or, at least, where Sunnydale used to stand, according to Spike. And the last clue Willow had left for them? The Welcome to Sunnydale spat out by the latest monster kill by D.

From there, they were set. They knew that the final battle was at hand. They traveled to the very edge of the Frontier, chartered a ship, and left for the shores of what had once been North America. It was a long journey, that involved several stops for Tara, and her vampire and half-vampire companions. But, finally, they arrived in the area that had once been called Sunnydale.

It was desolate, without a soul in sight. It made a chill race up Tara's spine. It was nightfall, so Spike—now wearing the familiar duster that had been taken from him and buried—walked confidently beside her. And on her other side strode D, his possessed Left Hand oddly quiet as they made their way farther into town.

"I can't even recognize it," Tara whispered.

"Of course not, love. It was made a crater, filled in, survived a nuclear war, rebuilt, shot down by OSBs, and then leveled flat. Nothing of the Sunnydale we knew is left, pet," Spike said.

Tara's eyes swept over to D, who made no comment. She shook her head. "I don't know where Willow would be."

"How about that building there, sweets?" Left Hand barked from his place at D's side.

Tara brought her gaze up and gasped. A thicket of trees and vines—ones not naturally found in California, not then or now—grew up and over a tall, wide expanse of a broken down building. The building was flat-topped, save for its centermost piece, which rose up in a bell tower. Spike swore.

"It's the bloody high school. She must've rebuilt the damned thing."

Tara had not attended Sunnydale High, but she had been told all about it. And being the witch that she was, she knew what lie beneath. The Hellmouth, a powerful doorway into the Great Below, which had caused most of the monster problems the small town had had.

Suddenly, a great wave of… something washed over Tara. It knocked the breath out of her, and she bent double.

"Tara," D said. It was not a question. More like a confirmation.

"She's in there. Willow's in there," Tara gasped.

Without any further warning, she took off, her feet propelling her forward. The sound of crunching dirt and gravel behind her let her know that her companions followed. She did not stop, ducking under branches and stray vines until she had broken through the front door of the building. She could not explain it, but she knew. She knew exactly where Willow was going to be. She turned, travelling along a first floor corridor until she reached a long, open breezeway that connected the main school building to an even larger building beside it. She threw open the doors she found there and stepped inside.

The gymnasium's floor was polished and still had all the printing on it required for a game of basketball. One set of bleachers on the wall opposite where Tara had entered was extended. And on the very top bleacher, dressed in that medieval mauve dress with her raven locks falling across her shoulders and back was Willow. Her black-stained eyes found Tara, and she smiled, but the warmth of the gesture did not extend any farther than her lips. Blue veins tipped the sides of her paste-white face. Tara took a few more steps into the gym, and she heard her companions follow right behind.

"Willow," she gasped, her hands clasped and held tightly to her chest.

"Tara. You found all my clues? Solved them all?" she asked, taking a couple of steps down the bleachers.

Tara heard D unsheathe his sword, and Willow laughed.

"And you brought along your friends, Spike and D. Oh, and how could I forget… do you simply call him Left Hand? It's been a long time since we last met."

Tara glanced over her shoulder at D. "What is she talking about?"

"Oh, Tara. Did D not mention that he knew me?"

Tara bit her lip. "He mentioned it."

Willow's void-like eyes searched Tara, and finally she sighed.

"Oh, but he didn't mention _how_ he knew me. I'm the one who put Left Hand where he is. On Dracula's orders, of course."

Spike shook his head. "You're off your rocker, Red. You have been for a few centuries too long."

"You're one to talk. Nice to see you when you're not mumbling gibberish, Spike."

"Yeah, and who's to blame for that?"

Willow sneered. "Well, if you could stand just a little torturing… you know, man up, then maybe—"

"Enough," D said, striding forward. "You wish for death, Witch. We'll kindly abide."

"Do I? Wish for death, that is?" Willow said, pressing a thoughtful finger to her lips. Suddenly, her eyes widened. "Oh, yes. My first hologram. I left that ages ago. My priorities have since changed."

Every word tore at Tara's heart, and she stepped forward to stand even with D.

"I don't believe that," she said.

"Oh? Well, then, how about this?"

Willow pointed a hand toward the gymnasium floor several feet in front of D, Spike, and Tara. She began to chant in Latin, and a bright light issued forth. When it cleared, Tara's eyes widened. Standing there, a sword in hand, was Buffy.

"That's not her," Spike snarled.

"You're right. But it looks like her. And sounds like her. And, more importantly, fights like her. You want to kill me? You'll have to go through my BFF."

Buffy launched herself at the three of them, and D and Spike jumped into the fray without hesitation. They drew all the sword clashing and kicking and general landing of blows away from Tara. Which was just what was needed. Tara now turned her attention back to Willow, walking forward until she stood at the foot of the bleachers.

"This isn't you. Not the you that I knew. You've been corrupted by years of having to do Dark Magic just to survive. It's time you rested," she said.

Willow smiled, and it may have been Tara's imagination, but it looked a little weary. "I can't rest. Tara, I've tried."

"Then you're not trying hard enough."

To Tara's right, the fight raged on as Fake Buffy brought her sword down to connect with D's, and Spike came up being her to attack from the rear. She threw the vampire off, just as D freed his sword for another blow. Tara turned back to Willow.

"It's time to end it," she said, walking steadily up the bleachers.

Willow snarled at her. "Don't come any closer. Not if you value your life."

But Tara kept on, nothing but heartache and pity on her features. Finally, she stood face to face with Willow.

"Give up. Please."

Willow stood there, frozen as the sounds of fighting carried up to them. She put her back to Tara, her head hung low.

"Oh, Tara," she whispered, and it sounded like tears were forming.

"It's okay," Tara said, resting her hands on Willow's shoulders.

In a flash, Willow turned, a dagger shining in the low light. Tara only just saw it, and she dodged the blow. She clamped her hands onto Willow's dagger-wielding fist.

"Stop! Willow, no!" she pleaded as the two struggled.

A scream brought their struggle to a halt as both witches turned. D had run Fake Buffy through with a sound… but not without receiving a few wounds of his own. Spike was sitting on the floor, looking just as heartsick as Tara felt.

"Tara," Willow said, and this time, it sounded genuinely bereaved.

Tara felt Willow's free hand clasp the two she still had rested on the dagger-wielding hand. And instead of pushing outward toward Tara, Willow pulled inward. The blade connected with Willow's gut.

"Willow," Tara gasped, catching her before her body fell.

"Save me, Tara," she muttered. "Release me."

Tara nodded, tears rolling down her face. She began to chant. It was a spell she did not know she had known, but it felt right. Over and over she chanted until the black in Willow's eyes and hair faded. The veins receded, and a warm color returned to the red-head's cheeks. She smiled up at Tara.

"I knew you would… save—"

Tara sobbed, cradling her body close as D and Spike climbed the bleachers.

"D, thank… you," she gasped as the two reached them. "Your father… he's waiting for you."

D leaned forward. "Where?"

Willow gasped. "At home."

Then she breathed out, heavy… and she did not breathe in again.

#

They buried Willow in front of the school—the foliage already beginning to recede now that its mistress was dead. The sun was rising, and Spike was already climbing into the wooden cart that was attached to Tara's cyborg horse for just such an occasion. Once Spike was fully protected from the sun, Tara turned to D.

"Is that why you helped me? Because of what Willow said to you? About your father?"

Left Hand chuckled ruefully. "Tried to tell you, sweetheart. This one's nothing if not for a price."

D didn't answer. Tara nodded.

"It's okay. I'm still grateful for your help."

D mounted his horse just as Tara did the same for hers. She looked over at the half-blood.

"You're hunting for him, your father? You have been for a long time, haven't you?"

D did not meet her eyes, but he nodded once. Tara grinned.

"Then I'll follow you, and help you. Like you did me."

"That's not necessary," the dhampire replied.

"I want to."

"I'd prefer it if you didn't."

Tara laughed. "Like you have a choice."

And the two vampire hunters rode off into the sun rise.

* * *

End Notes: Okay, so some of that was a cop out, but there it is. The last one in my Vampire Hunter T series. I hope you enjoyed it!


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